Villain Read online

  His words caused me no small measure of uneasiness. They were in fact a reminder that Henry Lexington was a complicated man with more than one face. He could charm me effortlessly and then rip my heart out the next day. “Well, don’t worry, Mr. Lexington. I for one won’t underestimate you.”

  He immediately frowned and stepped into my personal space, crowding me. Henry searched my eyes, his expression unhappy. “You say that like you expect me to hurt you. I won’t. I won’t hurt you, Nadia.”

  I gave him a cool smile. “No, you won’t.”

  Determination hardened his eyes. “This is happening between us and it’s real.”

  I traced my finger down the lapel of his tuxedo and made a snake over his heart. “All that’s going to happen between you and me is this… you’ll take me home, I’ll invite you into my apartment, and then I’ll invite you inside me. We’ll have fun. You’ll leave. And I won’t see you again. Understood?”

  Desire darkened his eyes as they fell to my lips. “I see we’re doing this the hard way.”

  “I hope so.”

  He grinned at my innuendo. “Fuck, I like you.”

  “Henry, good to see you.” We were suddenly interrupted by an older couple.

  The smoldering in Henry’s eyes disappeared as he turned to them and slipped easily into the charmer these people knew and loved.

  * * *

  For the most part the people Henry introduced me to were friendly and inquisitive about my job, some of them knowing a lot more about meteorology broadcasting than I expected. But of course, we were surrounded by wealthy business people, smart people, and as much as some of them underestimated me, I’d probably underestimated and prejudged them too.

  To my discomfort, I’d also underestimated Henry’s flirtatious nature. Old, young, somewhere in between, if it was female, Henry went out of his way to make her feel like she was special. I don’t think he even knew he did it—it was a natural part of who he was.

  And as I watched him, I began to doubt every moment we’d spent together over the last week. Because the truth was, as much as I hated to admit it, Henry had made me feel special, interesting, intriguing, wanted. But he made every woman feel like that. It was a nice quality to have… but not exactly one that gave me much faith in his so-called feelings for me.

  We were talking to an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Winston, when a petite beauty with masses of dark curls and huge dark eyes approached. She’d eyed me with distaste and then was overly fake friendly when Henry introduced us. She then insisted he come with her to sort out an argument with some person whose name escaped me. Despite what I thought was her obvious cattiness, Henry went, leaving me for the first time. I think he felt okay to do so because I was explaining my job to Mrs. Winston who seemed genuinely fascinated.

  Five minutes later, he still hadn’t returned and Mr. and Mrs. Winston had been distracted by an acquaintance.

  I stood on the outskirts of the room, alone, confused, and wishing to God that I was home in my apartment watching a good movie.

  “You look like you need this.” Alexa approached on her own and offered me a glass of champagne.

  Gratitude swept over me in such magnitude, I almost felt teary. I was miserable. I didn’t know if I was miserable being at the party, or if I was miserable because of Henry, or how Henry made me feel. I didn’t know. I was a mess.

  I hid that mess behind a grateful smile. “Thank you. Henry was pulled away by some catty society girl and there really was no polite way for him to get out of it.” I don’t know why I said that. Maybe because I had hoped that’s why he’d left me on my own. I almost flinched at how needy I was being. This so was not me.

  “Henry’s a catch around these parts.” Alexa smiled sympathetically. “The women who have grown up in his circle think of him as theirs.”

  “I’m getting that.” They can have him! I thought bravely, hoping that if I told myself I felt nothing for him, the feeling might actually take hold.

  “Honestly, I think they bore him.” She seemed to want to reassure me.

  “Well, I’m from Beacon Falls, Connecticut, which is a slightly different crowd of people. Definitely not boring.” Nope. Boring we were not. Or at least… I wasn’t boring. Not that my kind of boring was a good thing. I didn’t want Henry to know how not boring I could be. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “I’m from Chester,” Alexa exclaimed.

  Unease pricked at me and I covered it with a chuckle. “No way. We grew up, like, what? An hour from one another?”

  “It’s a small world.”

  Yes, it was. Hopefully not too small for her to have heard anything about me. I shrugged off that concern, knowing even if she did know the story, it would have a different name attached to it.

  Despite how I was feeling, Alexa was so easy to talk to that I found myself relaxing into her company. We talked about growing up in Connecticut, about college (not a lot because I didn’t want to give anything away inadvertently), about Boston, and how I’d recently done the tourist thing. She told me about her favorite places around the city and I could see our tastes were similar. I enjoyed the fact that she didn’t ask me about Henry, and because I already knew more about her and her boss than I wanted to, I didn’t ask her about Caine.

  We clicked, and in the back of my mind, I was already cursing Henry for introducing me to her, knowing that our friendship wouldn’t last given he and I were ending this thing between us.

  But maybe, somehow, I could still stay in contact with Alexa. She was the first person in Boston, other than Joe, who made me feel like myself.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, ladies.” Henry appeared and gently tugged me toward him. I wanted to resist, considering how long he’d left me alone, but that conflicted with the fact that I was glad he had because it meant I got to spend time with Alexa. “My father is finally free from the bigwigs and I want to introduce you to him.”

  What the fuck?

  His father?

  Was here?

  And he wanted to introduce me to him? No way. That was not in the plan!

  “Your father?” I shot Alexa a pleading look even though I knew there was very little she could do. “Why are you introducing me to your father?” I hissed as he propelled me through the crowded ballroom.

  “Because I want him to meet you.”

  I ignored his obvious amusement. “You’re trying to torture me.”

  “Actually, I merely want you to meet my father. I like him a lot and I like you a lot. It makes sense to introduce you.”

  “You’re being pushy and obnoxious.” My stomach twisted with nerves. “Really, Henry, I don’t want to—”

  “Father.” Henry stopped in front of two men, and I was forced to shut up.

  “Henry…” The taller and older of the two men turned to us, his eyes flicking from his son to me. I’d seen Randall Lexington in the paper and already knew Henry got his good looks from his father. As trim as he must have been in youth, Lexington filled out his tuxedo as well as any man half his age. He had light gray eyes, not blue like Henry’s, but they had the same smooth handsomeness. When he smiled at me, it was Henry’s boyish, charming smile, and for some stupid reason, it made me relax a little.

  “Nadia, this is my father Randall, and my colleague Iain Prendergast.”

  I stuck out my hand to his father, “Nice to meet you,” and then to Iain.

  “Nice to meet you, Nadia.” Iain gave me a polite smile. “Henry, Mr. Lexington.” He nodded at father and son and then left us to it.

  “Miss Ray.” Randall reached for my hand again, clasping it between both of his. His expression was warm and curious. “I’ve seen you on television. You light up the screen. I’ve never met a broadcast meteorologist before.”

  I was immediately charmed—he got my job title correct!

  “Thank you. I love my job.”

  Randall let go of my hand and smirked at his son. “It only took you twenty-odd years to bring an
interesting date to one of these things.”

  I laughed as Henry chuckled. “You’ve just insulted half the women in this room.”

  His dad shrugged. “Whoops.”

  Having not been what I expected at all, I found myself relaxing even more. “Henry told me he had to work his way up in your company rather than going straight in at the top. I have to say I admire your decision to do that.”

  “Were you complaining again, son?”

  “I’ll never forgive you for the hardship.”

  I studied father and son as they teased each other, and liked what I saw.

  “So, Miss Ray—”

  “Please, call me Nadia.”

  “Nadia,” his eyes searched my face, “a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  “Hey now.” Henry slid his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side. “Watch it. For all I know, my date has a thing for older men.”

  I tensed at the joke, immediately regretting it when Henry shot me a puzzled look. Forcing myself to relax, I smiled lamely.

  “As I was saying,” Randall smoothed over the moment, “Nadia, tell me, are you dying to get out of here as much as I am?”

  There was no hiding my surprise at the question. Randall Lexington was Boston society. “What?”

  Henry squeezed my waist. “My father hates these things. He only comes for the business opportunities and because my mother loves them.”

  “We could be doing better things with our time than standing around sipping champagne and gossiping,” he said. I heard the tired derision in Randall’s voice.

  “This is a charity benefit.”

  “So let me write a check. Don’t make me put on a damn penguin suit and stand in a ballroom having to converse with people, half of whom don’t have an original thought between them.”

  I choked on a snort.

  Seriously. I loved him.

  Randall grinned at the noise. “I have a feeling Miss Ray shares my sentiments. Well, unlucky for you if you stick around with my son, you’ll be subjected to more of this. It comes with the territory.”

  “I don’t mind this stuff as much,” Henry said.

  “Now you don’t. Give it twenty years. So… do you like it?” Randall asked me directly.

  I sighed. “It’s really only my first society event.”

  “But?”

  “I feel like a fish out of water,” I answered honestly.

  Henry’s grip on me tightened. “Why?”

  My answer seemed to have disturbed him.

  “Uh, kids, maybe take that conversation elsewhere…” Randall stared over my shoulder, “Your mother is headed this way.”

  Without even a goodbye, Henry took hold of my hand and dragged me in the opposite direction. “What is going on?”

  He didn’t answer me until we were on the other side of the ballroom with hundreds of couples between us and his father. Henry grabbed two glasses of champagne, handed one to me, and downed the other.

  “Explain.”

  “You first.” He crowded me against a window alcove, hiding me from the rest of the room. His hand rested on my hip possessively as he stared down into my face, looking as serious as he had in the Town Car earlier. “You feel like a fish out of water here?”

  “Honestly, yes.”

  “Why?”

  I cocked my head, studying him. Why did he care? “Why does it bother you if I do?”

  “Because I have to attend these events. I hate to think of dragging you along to things you’re not enjoying.”

  “There you go being all presumptuous again.”

  “I introduced you to my father, Nadia. I don’t normally do that.”

  I scoffed. “So I should feel honored?”

  “Don’t do that.” He leaned into me, pressing his body along mine. He stroked my chin and gripped it gently to tilt my head back. “Don’t be cynical and distant. I don’t like it. It’s not you.”

  “You don’t know who I am,” I whispered, aroused by his proximity despite the mess of my emotions.

  “No?” He bent down, his lips brushing mine. “Then tell me who you are.”

  I licked my lips deliberately so my tongue flicked against his mouth, and his eyes smoldered. “I’m the girl,” I kissed him on the corner of his mouth, “wondering why a guy would introduce me to his father, but run like a bat out of hell from introducing me to his mother.”

  “His mother is wondering that also,” a cool, feminine voice said behind him.

  Henry froze. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “I heard that.”

  For some reason, Henry looked pained as he pulled back from me. And apologetic. He gripped my hand in his and turned to face a petite woman who appeared younger than her years. A woman whose wealth meant life had been kind to her skin.

  “Mother.” Henry leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek without letting go of my hand.

  Penelope Lexington had diamonds in her ears, around her throat, and around her wrist. In contrast to all the bling, her dress was black and simple. Henry had her lovely blue eyes.

  She looked amazing for a woman who was mother to a thirty-something-year-old.

  Her full lips, however, were pinched with displeasure as she stared at me.

  “Nadia, this is my mother, Penelope.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lexington.” I held out a hand to her, despite her chilly stare.

  To my horror she stared at my hand like it was a bug. I dropped it, shocked at her rudeness.

  “Mother, Jesus Christ,” Henry snapped quietly.

  “Don’t you curse at me,” Penelope huffed and then narrowed her eyes on me. “I can see what a marvelous influence the weather girl is already being on you.”

  I stiffened at her derision.

  “Not. Here,” Henry bit out.

  “Not here?” She stepped closer to us and I glanced around the room. Mostly everyone was completely unaware of the tension happening among the three of us, but a group of young women to our right caught my eye. They were watching with glee.

  “You’re being rude.”

  “I’m being rude? You were supposed to attend the event with Portia Windsor. Instead you dumped her for a weather girl.”

  “Broadcast meteorologist.” I threw my shoulders back, eyeing her in defiance.

  Her upper lip curled. “Dress it up anyway you want, sweetheart, you’re an overweight nobody whose breasts got her some attention. I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. And what I’m sure we can agree on is that you’re not good enough for my son. I want you to leave.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” Henry stared at her in angry disbelief, two bright flags of red on the upper crests of his cheeks.

  “I’m happy to leave.” I stared through her for a moment, hoping to make her flinch. However, she was cold as stone. As I moved to pass her, anger and fear that she was right mixed together. Maybe she was right. But how she’d treated me—humiliated me—was unforgiveable. I stopped by her side and stared down into her haughty expression. “I guess the saying is correct after all.”

  She raised a perfect eyebrow at me.

  “Money really can’t buy class.”

  Hot temper lit up her eyes but I walked away with my head held high.

  I was halfway across the ballroom, which seemed to have tripled in size, when he fell into step beside me.

  His hand rested on my lower back as he guided me out.

  Neither of us said a word.

  Not while we waited for the Town Car to arrive. And not while we sat in the Town Car.

  Inside I was screaming. How she’d treated me reminded me of a time I’d like to forget. But I didn’t feel like a victim.

  I didn’t feel angry at Penelope Lexington, who’s attitude, unfortunately, was a product of the society she kept and being trapped in a time warp.

  I was angry at myself because it was my own past actions that made me have such a low opinion of myself. A low enough opinion for me to b
elieve Penelope Lexington was probably right. Joe was right. Being with Henry was taking me back to that bad place again.

  Because who was I to have judged Henry all night? To stand there in my too-high heels and weigh whether he was a villain or a hero? If he was good enough for me?

  I acted like my story deserved a hero.

  But only a heroine deserves a hero.

  And I wasn’t a heroine. I couldn’t be.

  The truth was in someone else’s story…

  I was a villain.

  “What are you doing?”

  Henry frowned at me as we stood on the sidewalk outside my apartment building. “Coming up with you.”

  The Town Car drove smoothly away. A trickle of fear, anxiety, and nerves mixed with the need to throw myself at Henry, to seek comfort in him with the added benefit of taking what Penelope Lexington didn’t want me to have.

  Yet my anxiety and self-derision were stronger in that moment, and after all the time I’d spent fighting to feel good about myself, self-directed anger started to brew. Because I should have listened to Joe.

  And since I couldn’t take it out on myself, I knew I’d take it out on Henry.

  “Just go.” I gestured toward the departing car. “Call him back.” Turning on my heel, I climbed up the stairs to my door.

  He climbed up the stairs right behind me.

  My blood turned hot; agitation made me want to curl my toes inside my shoes, and the feelings stirring inside of me were so overwhelming, my hands shook as I tried to get the key in the door.

  A small sigh sounded at my ear and suddenly his hands covered mine, pulling the keys out of my hold. I immediately stepped back, watching in mounting irritation as he let us into the building.

  I tensed as he put his hand on my back, guiding me upstairs.

  My throat felt hot, tight, swollen with words that I was trying to choke down. Hurtful words, hateful words. Words that would make him feel as badly as I was feeling.